


Falling Down

by Longcat



Series: They Deserved Happiness [5]
Category: Original Work, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Altered States, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Forgivness, Help, M/M, Panic, Possible Masturbation, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Relapse, Self-Hatred, Unreliable Narrator, drug induced euphoria, falling off the wagon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longcat/pseuds/Longcat
Summary: Denshou wakes up from a bad decision, he doesn't know where he is or if he can even stand up. Does he have the energy to call for the help he needs?
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: They Deserved Happiness [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060136





	Falling Down

The walls were sideways and dark, darker than he remembered. Or maybe that was the floor, there was a lot of dirt and grime on it so there was a possibility it was the floor. He couldn't tell anymore. Whatever it was was cool on the side of his face. It smelled awful though, like forgotten ice cream left out for a week. 

Denshou stretched his hand out, fingers splayed out feeling something both greasy and rough. He felt heavy, unable to move much more than his arm, he had the feeling that lifting it would be a chore. He couldn't remember where he was, or when he was. His mind was floating through some kind of syrup, going too slow for him to use it. Too slow to register fear or even worry about his situation.

The why of his predicament was pretty easy to judge. Wasn't it? It was familiar, the situation, not the specifics. Maybe some of the specifics. He'd been here before, well not  _ here _ , but you know… he knew, didn't he? The cotton feeling left in his mouth was worse than sand, leaving him to wonder is he had licked the floor at some point.

He rolled over, things digging into his back and collecting in his hair. Flashes of ecstasy blossomed in his head from the simple movement. A moan of pleasure involuntarily escaped despite the pain caused by the grit on the ground beneath him. It was an aftershock he was experiencing, his mind lighting up along with his nerves in bursts of feel good. 

His brain supercharged it left the slow syrup and he knew exactly why he was, the where was still a bit more of a mystery. He had slipped, work had been rough, stressful would have been a welcome for the negative chaos that teaching at a heroic school brought. Ignoring his nets that were in place to catch him he wandered out of bounds. Old habits calling him like a bad friend, beaconing to him with a siren's call. And he fell for it. The guilt was starting to set in, but he was still riding higher. No idea how much or even what he had taken. It must have been a hell of a combo as he still couldn't sit up and just the simple movement of rolling over was enough to nearly cream himself. 

Slowly letting his head roll to the side he took in the room around him. His glasses were skewed on his face and had something smeared across the lenses. Was that frosting? Things were blurry shapes were out of focus but he was in a large room. A very large room. He couldn't make out the far wall, as far as he could see it didn't exist. However the near wall was old, or at least dirty enough that it looked old. There weren't many buildings with exposed wall joints, and even fewer with the remnants of posters. That should help narrow the where down. 

Fighting his new nemesis of gravity he attempted to lift his arm. A sensation of ants or water or beans running downwards towards his torso was somehow familiar and triggered a feeling of deja vu. The ceiling was wrong, it needed more lights, and less. It should be darker, like night, with faded neon. Pills filing his hands and pouring through his fingers, or maybe candy, possibly both. The feeling as he pushes his fingers into a bowl of small, smooth, forbidden temptation, sending shivers of ants up his arm. His vision returned to see his empty hand slowly waving and wiggling above his head, the dark of night gone, replaced with the uncertainty of day. He could move. 

With this revelation he returned his arm to his chest. The cloth was damp? It was at least cool, but warm, like sweat and body heat. And it was soft, pleasant to touch. He hummed as he ran his hand up and down his own chest, enjoying the feeling of his shirt and of being felt. His eyes fluttering closed, causing him to lose sight of the industrial ceiling above him. Losing himself into the feeling. 

Traveling further down, fingertips brushed buttons. One, two, nothing but a bit of frayed string, three, the hemmed edge of his shirt, the hemmed bit of his undershirt. Warmth and cool hit simultaneously sending shivers through his body. The tingles creating a cascade triggering a wave of purple and green and silver. Seeking more of those fireworks his hand meandered across his skin, pushing softly into his own flesh finding areas that sang out creating music. A contradiction of textures from the pliable silky pudding of his skin to a wirery and tantalizing trail of hair. 

A rough and stiff barrier only somewhat prevented him from chasing that adventure. Distracted for a bit by the new textures and the new sensation of running his finger along the edge of his jeans Denshou could feel himself falling. The sparkles from the residual highs, the memories of the drugs leaving him. He squirmed in frustration, his hand resting firmly on his crotch causing his squirm to evolve into an arch. A pop sounding from his shoulders summoned those sparkles, that were formerly fading back, in force. 

"Ah! Uuuunnnnghhh, uh, ha." His own voice was foreign to him and surprisingly loud. Not only did his throat feel like he had eaten cinnamon and flour but it sounded like it too. Rough and dry, clinging to itself as he moaned loudly at the rush of endorphins, his voice cracking. 

His mind was foggy once again, clarity lost to the haze of pleasure. His hand slowly slipped to the side, palming a familiar lump under his jeans. While his mind was slowly returning, his fingers deftly pushed the shape out of his pocket, catching it before it fell the very short distance to the floor. His phone, there was still battery left, it told him it was near eleven. Brushing the front activated the lock screen. He could see himself smiling, no laughing, as his face was smooshed with a passionate kiss to his cheek. His boyfriend, fiance now, had face paint and glitter smeared across his skin, joy and love ever present in the creases cornering his eyes. Shame and guilt crept in as the high faded away in ebbs. 23 missed calls. 

Gravity won out as his arm dropped down, elbow bumping unceremoniously against the hard ground. The sound of ringing louder than anything he remembered. His eyes drifted out of focus as what feels like an eternity slipped by, the rhythmic tonal of a phone waiting to be picked up melting with the passage of time. Silence. Then a cacophony. 

"'Zou?! Are you ok? Where are you? We've been trying to reach you. Worried. Missing. Searched." Kaito's words were broken up, either by poor signal in the phone or poor signals in his brain. Instead of hearing anger and hate, he was met with fear and relief. The difference between expectation and reality was jarring. Throwing him from the defensive place he was prepared to start from, he fell backwards into the truth.

"I need help. I messed up." Everything came to a halt at his admission. The other end of the line was silent hearing those weak and cracked words. But only for a moment.

"Are you hurt?" There was worry in his voice, but it was still soft. A change from the frantic worry the call started with. 

"I'm not sure." Fear was finally rearing its head, he knew he couldn't move well, and when he did something sparked an echo of the drugs. There were too many unknowns. He still hadn't tried moving his other arm, he was almost certain it was there, but there was still a disconnect between his brain and the rest of him.

"Ok. Do you know where you are?" Through the speaker Denshou could hear movement; papers, jingle of keys, the rub of a chair across the floor. It was a change from the vague silence of wherever he was.

"I think it's the empty club, maybe a shopping center. A pop up rave?" He still didn't know exactly where he was, still unable to sit up or even stand up to look around. He knew no one else was around though, and while his memory was patchy he remembered music. 

"Should I bring a medical unit?" The question came without any blame. Kaito maintained a gentle tone despite his worry, his professional training helping him in the situation.

"Probably. I can't remember everything; I'm pretty sure there was molly, and barbs, and some others, maybe amphetamines. Kai I don't know what was real." Fear gripped at his heart, the tight feeling binding as it beat strongly, like a tiger pacing its cage. He was aware of how he could have died, he had certainly overdosed but somehow made it through. Mixing uppers and downers and who knew what else, it was more than stupid. 

"Alright, it's ok. I'll find you, I'll be there." Maintaining the reassurance was just as much for himself as it was for Denshou.

"Tori?" His voice cracked on the single name. Shame eating into his soul as he remembered the pain and disappointment in his little brother's face last time. 

"He's worried, but he has classes. We assured him this wasn't a repeat." The use of "we" hit Denshou in the gut. There was more than just his partner looking out for his brother, and for him. 

"I'm sorry. I'm the worst, the absolute worst." His voice was shaking as he broke down. Self-loathing retuning, partnering with with guilt and shame if his actions. How much progress he had erased with a single night. How many relationships he failed and ruined in his chase. He missed work, he had already abused the good graces and hospitality of his employer. He was going to lose that. He was his own worst enemy sabotaging himself when he was in his best place. 

"You tripped, this is just a rock in the road. It's not even a big one, just enough that you fell. I'll help you back up and we can continue together." Kaito's words came like a blanket, ready to wrap him up in affirmation and love. Something wet trickled into his ear. Reaching up with his lost arm he traced the damp trail from his ear up his cheek bumping into the frames of his glasses. Then came the body racking sobs.


End file.
